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The Insulated Electric Outhouse

Yesterday I left home at 5:30, and drove 150 miles
to our little cabin in the cozy Iowa woods. 


Minnesotans do not understand why anyone would have
a cabin in the woods:  cabins are on lakes. 
Hunting shacks are out in the woods.


Yesterday I left home at 5:30, and drove 150 miles
to our little hunting shack in the cozy Iowa woods.


After all, it is September, and winter is creeping down,
cabin by cabin, from International Falls to Iowa. 
At last report, none of the 10,000 lakes on our license plates
had frozen over yet, but Labor Day is Labor Day!


My pickup was loaded with fiberglass insulation,
plastic sheets to provide a vapor barrier,
or maybe just something to hold the fiberglass in place.


It is the most absurd and delightful necessity, that outhouse;
two stories tall, inspired by the Golden Age Fisheries logo,
built over a hole dug by a backhoe before the log house
was erected.  The hole--Oh, let us say, "receiving unit"--
is lined with limestone, and has a concrete cap. 


The outhouse is no "Let us tip over on Halloween!" project.
It is built for the centuries.  No, let us be honest!
It is built because we do not have a septic tank. 


From the floor of the upper story,
which is at the same level as the upper story of the house,
accessed by an elevated walkway,
it is approximately 14 feet to the peak of the roof.
Simple decency, and a desire for lots of air,
is giving us a vaulted ceiling in our privacy.


Actually, it isn't all that private:
it has two picture windows, into the woods.


I consider electrifying and insulating our outhouse
to be my small contribution to a new health care plan.
It would be a shame to waken in the middle of the night,
stumble thirty feet or so out across the walkway,
and freeze to death in the midst of relief!


Next:  drywall, and a color scheme!
I am trying to avoid earth tones, so to speak.

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